Cloaked

by Taylor Hobbs

  “Fawkes, I can’t.”

  “Then I will do it for you,” he offered, standing up.

  She hesitated, torn between what she felt was right and what she felt was safe. “No, that’s not what I want. You heard Josephine. The souls of those she sentenced haunted her. She wanted redemption for you, Fawkes, and that starts now. Plus, I can’t kill him. He’s younger than Henry. He is just a boy.”

  “Charlotte,” he said gently, “he will be able to identify us.”

  “Let’s leave him here. We can leave the fire going so he doesn’t freeze to death. We can be long gone before he wakes up. And who is to say he will even report us? I cannot live with sentencing everyone we come across with an execution.”

  He sighed. “You know this is dangerous.”

  She almost laughed at him. “You mean what we’ve been doing all this time hasn’t been dangerous?”

  “Fine. We will leave him, though it is against my better judgment. But I trust you, and he is your captive. This is your decision.”

  The pair busied themselves readying Ghost as quickly as possible. The extra day of rest seemed to have restored new life into Fawkes, reassuring Charlotte that it had been worth the cost to stay longer. She took advantage of her burst of energy and packed them up in record time.

  The rush of taking down the soldier so efficiently still coursed through her veins, and she itched for action. The feeling of power, and the calm certainty that she would survive the fight, was intoxicating. There had been no room to doubt herself, and she had proved to Fawkes exactly what she was capable of. To know now that she had the ability within her body to overpower others, to render them helpless at her feet—how was she ever going to walk away from it?

  It’s no wonder Fawkes chose this particular career path, she thought. As the Cloaked Shadow, he had gotten to relish in besting others without necessarily relishing in the kill.

  But Charlotte had to be honest with herself. As she held the knife to the boy’s throat, the temptation to cross her own moral boundaries had been strong. If he were older, or hadn’t resembled Henry to such an extent, a part of her deep down wondered if she would have gone through with slitting his throat. The instinct that had reared up as she protected both herself and Fawkes frightened her.

  “Which direction to the dukedom?” she asked Fawkes, as he mounted up onto Ghost with very little of her help.

  “South, then west.” He grunted. “We need to ride long and hard, and hopefully outrun anyone who might find our trail, thanks to our friend back there. And on the way, you are going to explain to me why we are returning to your former home.”

  “Redemption,” she said, and settled in behind him. “Point Ghost in the right direction, then lay back on me and rest,” she instructed. Much to her surprise, he did so with little protest.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Along the journey home, Fawkes and Charlotte pooled their knowledge. Fawkes agreed with Charlotte that the rebels were most likely going to attack Duke Belaq and slaughter hundreds of his people. With such a ‘success’ at Numencaster, Robin probably felt unstoppable.

  In her gut, Charlotte knew that Belaq was going to be the target of the next attack. The message had hit her loud and clear after Josephine’s warnings and her subsequent nightmare.

  “But how do we know they won’t attack other villages on the way?” Fawkes countered with his own assumption.

  “Because I know Robin. This is personal, especially after what happened in Croantis. The rebels are sending messages to the most powerful men in the kingdom, men that they hold responsible for a number of offenses.”

  Once they neared the duke’s lands, Charlotte and Fawkes doubled their caution. Both the king’s army and the duke’s private forces roamed the region in impressive numbers. Even as they dodged the soldiers, Charlotte hoped that the army’s presence would at least slow down the rebels as well. It would make it more difficult to transport the materials they needed for another attack while under such scrutiny. The rebellion’s network of spies and allies was vast, but this time they lacked the element of surprise.

  “We will approach through the forest,” Fawkes decided. “The soldiers will avoid it at all cost. However, we will need to be on guard in case of a run in with the rebels. It is likely that they are camped within it to remain close to the village.”

  “They aren’t afraid of the Cursed Forest?”

  “Who do you think has been spreading rumors about the forest for years? The rebels have always used it as a sanctuary within Algonia, even before the Great War. The stories about it are not true.” Fawkes considered a moment. “Well, most of them, anyway.”

  “Do you think we will come across Robin and the rest, before they attack?”

  Fawkes shook his head. “By the time we reach Belaq’s castle, I predict they will have already infiltrated the village.”

  “I just can’t believe Henry would go along with something like this.” Charlotte tried to will away the tears that flooded her eyes. “If only I could find him. Talk to him. He knows these people. They are neighbors who helped raise us, friends who worked at the castle and in the stables. My brother would never hurt them!”

  “Charlotte, the brother you knew is no longer the same person as Henry is now. You have known this for a while. You need to be prepared to deal with the possibility that he is forever changed, thanks in part to Robin’s influence. I need to know, though, how you plan to confront him once we arrive.”

  “We will stop the mass murder, Fawkes, and then I’ll finally get Henry out of Robin’s clutches.” Charlotte braced herself to broach the other point of contention that hung heavy between them. “And what will you do with Belaq?”

  Fawkes stiffened, pulling on Ghost’s reigns involuntarily. “I will kill him, if the opportunity presents itself. He deserves to pay for what he has done.”

  “But you will not seek him out? For revenge?” Charlotte prodded. She needed to hear him say it; that Fawkes’ first and only priority would be to save the people of her village, and not abandon it in order to pursue the duke and make him pay for his sins. Even though she felt that Belaq deserved whatever was coming to him, he was not the focus of this mission.

  Fawkes sighed. “My foremost duty will be with you to help stop the rebel attack.” That promise would have to be enough for her.

  The forest loomed ahead of them, dark and foreboding, but oddly comforting at the same time. It wasn’t as frightening as Charlotte remembered it being the first time around. Now, she approached the Cursed Forest knowing that this was the last time she would enter her homeland. Whether she left or not was contingent on surviving the mission. Either way, she knew it would all end here, and she would never make the journey into her village again.

  Fawkes was still weak, but gaining strength in spite of their relentless traveling. His fever never resurfaced, and he was gaining some of the mobility back in his arm. Charlotte cleaned and changed the bandage nightly, now that Fawkes would let her near the injury. Thick scar tissue was sure to develop, and she wondered if it would forever hinder his fighting prowess. She suspected Fawkes feared it, too.

  “Now you just need a matching injury on your leg,” she told him one night, as they camped in the Cursed Forest just outside of Charlotte’s village.

  Fawkes looked at her, confused. “Why would I need that?”

  Charlotte ran a light finger down the raised gash from his temple, then down to the scab on his shoulder. She felt the gooseflesh raise on his exposed chest in the cold night air. “So you’ll be balanced,” she teased. “And then I can trace a path through your scars it all the way down here—”

  His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could dip too low. “Charlotte,” he warned, voice low. “Not here. It is too dangerous.”

  They hadn’t dared light a fire in days and had already skirted a few of Belaq’s patrols that had been brave enough to enter the forest. There was still no sign of Robin or his men, but they needed to be o
n high alert at all times. Fawkes hadn’t been keen on the idea of…distractions.

  Charlotte knew that he thought about it just as much as she did. The fleeting moments of affection between them were urgent and raw as they raced across the kingdom. Heated kisses, hands that strayed too far, embraces that would have inevitably led to something more, but the timing was never right. They hadn’t even been able to share a bedroll since the boy soldier had stumbled upon their camp outside of Numencaster. Now that Fawkes was healing, they slept in shifts or not at all, and pushed to cover as much ground as they could to get to the dukedom in time.

  Charlotte and Fawkes planned to sneak into the village at first light and gather information. Ideally, they would locate the rebel forces and stop the attack. But dawn was an eternity away, and the sunrise could very well mark their last day together if things went wrong. Charlotte used Fawkes’ grip on her wrist to tug him closer. “Don’t do this to me,” he warned.

  “What, this?” Charlotte rose up onto her tip toes and leaned in, brushing feather-light kisses across his jawline. “Or this?” She moved her mouth down his neck, receiving a vibrating groan from his throat onto her lips. He didn’t move away from her, though. His body remained perfectly still as Charlotte explored his skin, unwilling to stop her but stoic in his stubbornness not to give in.

  He drew a shuddering breath as Charlotte wound her free hand to his waist. “Why do you insist on torturing me?”

  “Because who knows when I’ll get the chance to again,” Charlotte murmured. Strong hands closed around her shoulders and pushed her away. Fawkes’ eyes flashed dangerously in the dark as he stared down at her with a frown.

  “I will lay with the woman I love, but not here, in the dirt, in the cold. Right now is not our last moment.”

  The woman he loves? Charlotte stared at him in shock, but Fawkes didn’t seem to notice. “Now stop distracting me,” he said. “You are making it very hard to remember that. You sleep first. I have first watch. We will move into the village before dawn.”

  Awash in Fawkes’ confession, Charlotte didn’t feel the sting of rejection. Had he truly meant it? He had said it in such a matter-of-fact way, like she already knew it, like he had said it a hundred times before.

  As Charlotte settled into her bedroll, Fawkes’ words turned over in her mind. After her dramatic outburst before jumping out of a tower, maybe it was sweetly simple that he had told her so offhandedly about his feelings. There would be no deep conversation the night before the mission, with whispered pet names and fervent promises, no desperate love making like it would be their last night on earth.

  They just were together, having discussed tactics and mapped out the village for most of the day. They needed to have absolute focus if they were going to get their ‘right moment’ someday.

  ****

  Charlotte’s turn for watch came all too soon. Fawkes woke her with a gentle kiss on both eyelids, before landing one on her mouth as she eased out of her deep slumber. Stifling a yawn, she asked, “Anything to report?”

  “All is quiet. Wake me if anything happens,” Fawkes said, and they switched places.

  Charlotte watched him fall asleep instantly as she stretched stiff muscles. She hoped she wouldn’t have to wake him soon, because every extra bit of sleep would help his shoulder heal. She stood up and paced around the campsite, trying to stay warm and alert. If she sat down now, the grogginess would overcome her.

  Her circles around the camp grew larger and larger, spiraling out as she stayed sharp for anything unusual. It felt more proactive than just waiting for an enemy to stumble upon them. After the boy soldier got the jump on her, Charlotte promised herself that it wouldn’t happen again.

  As her radius expanded, she began to notice signs of human interference—disturbed foliage, misplaced soil, and the occasional hoot of an owl that reminded her how unnaturally silent the forest had become. A force seemed to be pulling her; it felt familiar yet frightening at the same time. Giving Fawkes a glance over her shoulder to reassure herself that he was all right, she decided to follow her instincts. It was obvious that she wasn’t alone, but whoever stalked the forest appeared to have turned around just before their camp. It looked like the track of a single person, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Crouching behind a thick trunk, she watched and waited for a sign. Her breath was deep and even, helping to steady the knife in her hand. While listening hard, a rustling sound prepared her for action. Leaping around the tree, she bowled into a dark figure and knocked him to the ground. A surprised yelp escaped his lips, echoing through the quiet forest. Charlotte’s knife found the stranger’s throat and the blade nicked the skin.

  “Don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me, Fawkes.” The body she held captive trembled under her hands, but didn’t struggle to get away. Charlotte pulled away enough to let the scarce moonlight filter through the trees and illuminate her captive on the forest floor.

  “Charlotte?” her brother said in disbelief. “How—how did you—I thought you were the Cloaked Shadow!”

  Charlotte was on her feet in an instant, scanning the trees. “Henry,” she said, not looking at him. “Where are they? Where are Robin and the others?” It took everything in her to keep from sprinting back to Fawkes to make sure he was safe.

  “They left me to stay here in the forest, until it was time. Said I would get recognized in the village. I’ve been here for days waiting for them to come back.” He shivered. “I was looking for food, and I thought I heard voices earlier. I kept getting turned around, you know how the forest has its ways…”

  Charlotte did know, and she suspected that the forest had a hand in pushing her to find her brother. Before she greeted him with open arms though, she needed to know the truth. “Henry,” she said, face stony. “Did you know about the attack in Numencaster? What they were going to do?”

  He swallowed audibly under her scrutiny. “Yes,” he whispered, eyes downcast. “But I didn’t know it was going to happen like that. The screaming—oh God. It was so much worse than Robin said it would be. He said it would prove a point, make them pay attention to us. Encourage others to join the fight against the crown. But Robin had this weapon—some kind of powder, I’d never seen it before. It didn’t just make noise.”

  “No, it didn’t,” Charlotte said, disgusted.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I was there. I saw what you and your rebel friends did. How could you, Henry? All those innocent people—children, even!”

  “I know!” Henry burst into uncontrollable tears. “I don’t know how it all happened. It was so fast—”

  “Did you even try to stop them?”

  “It was too late,” he mumbled. “The kegs had already been set. Charlotte, I didn’t know what they were going to do, I swear it!”

  “You are a coward,” she told him. “And now you’re here, about to do it again. To our home, Henry! To the people we know, who helped raise us.”

  “I don’t know what else to do, but Duke Belaq deserves it, Charlotte. You know he does.” Henry’s tears slowed, and a burning hatred flamed in his eyes. “Robin promised they would only bomb the castle this time. They are only going to try and kill Belaq. He said it was for our protection. After what we did to Belaq in Croantis, he was never going to stop hunting us. The duke is going to track us all down and kill us—that’s why we have to do this.”

  Charlotte stared at him incredulously. “You really believe that Robin will only set the castle to explode? You really think that he isn’t going to put cannon powder all over our village, and watch the whole community burn? Robin is only about himself, Henry. Now he has a taste of the destruction he can cause, and he is going to want to do it again. He wants people to fear him because he thinks that will make his transition to power that much easier.”

  “He won’t, Charlotte.” Her brother begged her to understand. “He said that the king’s town was just a test run. Robin said that we would only bomb the duke’s castle
this time. The one before was supposed to be practice before a real attack on the king’s castle and—”

  “And you what? Commit regicide?”

  “It is for the good of the kingdom! There can be no progress while that tyrant holds us back. Why can’t you understand?”

  “Because how much death and destruction will have to happen before Robin gets what he wants, only to turn around and rule worse than King Otan?”

  Henry shook his head, trying to come up with an answer. Charlotte’s brother was lost and confused, caught up in events and political schemes that he couldn’t hope to comprehend. He trusted too easily, fell too quickly for Robin’s promises of a better life for everyone. “Belaq deserves to die, Charlotte,” he finally said, as though that was the answer to everything.

  “Yes, he deserves it, but what is the cost you are willing to pay for his death? Is vengeance worth the lives of those who did nothing wrong to you?” Even as she said the words to Henry, part of Charlotte wanted to leave the bombs in the castle, to let the duke burn for what he did to her brother, her mother, and Josephine. Duke Belaq would get what was coming to him in due time, but there had to be another way besides causing untold damage to the village.

  Trying to reason with Henry was getting Charlotte nowhere, so she switched tactics. “Where are the powder kegs, Henry?” I just need to stick to the facts.

  He hesitated. “I don’t know for sure, but I know where they might be. Robin knows that I worked in the duke’s stables. He asked me for ten possible places around the castle that would be secluded. I don’t know which ones he picked to hide the powder in.”

  Ten locations? And spread out all around the castle? Finding the rebels and the kegs would take ages. “When are they coming back for you, Henry?” she asked.

  “I think they will fetch me when the sun comes up. They told me to wait three days. I’m to help light one of the kegs, Robin promised. He knows I deserve to help kill the duke.”